Promise (BW 2)
by HeroinHuntress
Summary: Bobbi James thought she was nothing special. That she was the same as the guy standing next to her. But what if she was wrong? What if she was supposed to join the team from her very conception? What if her life has been planned the entire time? What if she was supposed to save the world? Rated M for mature language and sexual content.
1. Episode 1: Too Late

**A/N:** Here is the first chap of book 2! Enjoy!

 _ **EPISODE PLAYLIST:  
** 01\. STITCHES_ \- Shawn Mendes  
 _02\. FIRE & THE FLOOD_ \- Vance Joy  
 _03\. WHERE'S MY LOVE_ \- SYML

* * *

 _ **NARRATOR'S POV**_

Her eyelids fell closed and he snapped. "No, no, no, no," he took her limp face in his hands, turning it to face him. "Hey- Bobbi? Bobbi, goddammit, don't you leave me. Stay with me." He barely noticed when the jump ship landed in the Harbor, several yards beyond them. It only took a second for Rip to practically bound from the ship and sprint across the gravel toward the scene—Sara and Kendra not too far behind. The others followed but were no match for their speed.

" _Bobbi_!" Rip skidded to a stop and dropped to his knees beside Bobbi, opposite Snart. His eyes almost instantly welled up, his chest becoming completely constricted at what he saw. There was so much blood. Too much of it to mean anything good. "I was too late," Snart admitted, guilt-ridden, almost to tears himself. The rest of the team stood at least a foot behind in staggered positioning. Kendra covered her mouth with her hand, the first of the team to cry.

Rip was devastated, seeing Bobbi practically dead. "There has to be something we can do," Sara insisted, forcing her composure.

"We need to get her onto the ship," Rip announced. Before all of the words even left his mouth, Snart had hefted Bobbi's limp form into his arms. It was then a mad dash for the ship. As the group passed through the cargo bay one by one, the kids thought nothing of it. But then Snart and Sara passed through—both supporting a blood-ridden Bobbi—and all of the younger versions of the team members had wide eyes, watching in horror as the sped by.

Young Bobbi tried desperately to get someone's attention. "Hey, wait- what's going on? Is she okay?" she asked, panicked, standing. Thankfully Ray just barely heard her in the panicked chatter of the team and stopped, pulling her aside back toward the others. That way he could explain it all at once. The three teens stood at attention. Ray tried to calm himself enough to speak. "She was in a fight, got hurt pretty bad—but we're going to do everything we can to save her, okay?"

"Fight with who?" Young Mick questioned. "Is it the same people hunting us?"

Ray inhaled. "Yes, it was," Young Bobbi deflated, and Sara's younger version put her arm around Young Bobbi's shoulders, comforting her. "There's no way we're going her die tonight, alright? I promise you, we're going to do everything in our power to make sure she pulls through. I'll come back and update you in a little while."

"Okay, thanks," Young Sara nodded. Ray nodded once in response and hurried off to join the others. Meanwhile, in the Med Bay, it was a frantic race against an invisible clock to stop Bobbi's bleeding. She was limply draped on the silver chair, her skin turning a pale white now. Blood coated the side of the chair and trickled down to smear the floor. Gideon was trying to use her equipment to cauterize the wound—it was a quick way to stop bleeding. But it wasn't working.

The wound was too deep. Too much blood was already lost. So Gideon was talking them through and emergency surgery on Bobbi's side. They would have to manually sew up everything Savage's blade damaged and then sew the skin back together. It would most likely need staples given its depth. The team had to act and think quickly, so they randomly nominated Sara to perform the surgery. Her hands were latex and coated in a warm red as she tried to peer inside the wound.

Nothing was visibly damaged but Gideon's scan had revealed a small nick in her Peritoneum—the lining of the abdominal cavity. It was small but needed to be put back together quickly with any hope of saving her. So Kendra acted as an assistant, getting Sara anything Gideon said she needed. Sara inserted a clamp to keep the membrane together. Then followed Gideon's instructions to ready a needle and thread. It was safe to say that Rip was a mess.

Not the sobbing, red faced, grief-stricken type of mess. It was a retreat within him, refusing to use any emotion for fear it might ruin him. Kendra was trying so hard not to lose it. Tears still leaked out anyway. The others were more frazzled, riddled with anxiety than anything. No emotional messes there. Snart stayed back throughout the procedure, keeping to himself. He'd reasoned in his mind that he'd already lost so there was no need to weep.

"Okay, it's stitched together. Now what?" Sara asked, handing a blood coated needle to Kendra.

" _Carefully remove the clamp and start using medical staples to hold together the outer epidermis_ ," Gideon instructed, over the speaker. " _They should be approximately one-half centimeter apart, or shorter if necessary. My preliminary scan of Miss James's injuries suggests there are no biological causes for excessive bleeding. A third party irritant could have elicited such a reaction_."

"What does that mean?" Ray asked what everyone was thinking. No one had an answer for it. Kendra dug through drawers until she found the stapler and hurried it back over to Sara. Sara Immediately started sealing the skin back together, each staple making a hard click. "The knife must have been made from a metal not discovered yet," Rip reasoned. "She could be allergic to some of it's properties?"

"Allergies don't usually cause deathly serious bleeding," Mick pointed out, leaning into the wall by the door. Suddenly Professor Stein had a thought. He went over to the girls at the silver chair and took one of Bobbi's knives from her thigh sheath. "Gideon, what is this knife made of?" he asked, turning back toward the others. Every few seconds another hard click sounded from Sara's stapler. Gideon scanned the knife.

" _None of my databases have a listing for such a material_ ," Gideon announced, after a short moment. " _But, the basic properties are an exact match to traces in my preliminary scan_."

"So...it's the _same_ knife?" Ray asked, baffled.

"How could Savage have Bobbi's knife when it's right there?" Jefferson asked, rhetorically, gesturing to the knife in Stein's hand. Rip had a thought that was hard to believe. But he uncrossed his arms and walked over to Stein, then took the knife, eyeing it. He examined the blade closely. Sure enough, what he feared was true. He'd seen it before. "It's simple," he exhaled, his shoulders dropping. "Savage acquired it somewhere in the future."

"He took her knife in the future and then came back in time to kill her with it in the past?" Ray questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"Why is _Bobbi_ so important to him?" Professor Stein thought aloud. "This whole time, he's only had direct encounters with her. At the nightclub he somehow already knew her name. And for some reason he wanted her for this exchange, not any one of us he was already trying to kill. Now he's stabbed her with her own knife? It's all extremely coincidental, don't you think?"

Rip sighed through his nose. "Whatever the reasoning, he knows something about the future that we don't." With that, he turned and left the Med Bay with the knife in hand. It wasn't hard for everyone in the room to detect that this was all personal for Rip. The hard part was deducing why. Sara needed assistance for the second half of stapling. The wound stretch an inch or two into her back, so Kendra helped lean Bobbi's body over for Sara to staple.

One of the first things Gideon had them do was set up a blood drip. They never took DNA samples for Bobbi, but there was plenty of blood stored for Rip, and Gideon told them to use it instead. Once the last staple was in, the bleeding stopped. Kendra gently laid Bobbi back down flat and Sara stood on an exhale. "Those better hold or so _help_ me..." she commented, bitterly sarcastic as she pulled off her latex gloves. They stopped being white almost instantly.

Now they were crimson and weighed a lot more than before. She went to toss them in the waste bin and Kendra wiped her eyes with her elbows as she began peeling off her own gloves. "Gideon, how's our girl?" Sara asked, moving back over to stand beside Bobbi. Kendra went to the waste bin to toss away her gloves and Ray hurried over to comfort her. " _Her pulse is extremely weak but it is holding at its current rate_ ," Gideon replied.

Gideon filtered a pulse monitor onto the wall of the Med Bay, not far from Bobbi's chair. The sound was a huge relief for everyone in the room. She was alive. For how long, no one could really say. But, right then, she was still with them. Rip took the ship to a place he knew would be safe. A place not even Vandal Savage could possibly find. His mother's house. They landed not far from the house in the early hours of morning. Rip made his way back to the Med Bay to tell the team.

They were all still waiting around doing various things to keep busy when he arrived. "Everyone, we're now in a safe zone. The Time Masters can't possible detect us here," he announced, stopping at the doorway. "The occupant of the house is expecting us. This will be much safer than waiting for her to heal on the ship." No one complained, no one argued. They all just wanted what was best for making Bobbi whole again. Snart volunteered—practically throwing himself at the position—and was nominated to carry Bobbi to the house.

So while he carried, Sara walked alongside with the blood bag. Rip led the way across the front garden and to the porch of the large two-level house. The teens followed behind the group. Rip didn't even have to knock for the door to be opened. A nice-looking, older woman stood in the doorway. Rip gave the biggest smile he could muster right then—which wasn't very big—and sighed. "Hello, mother," he greeted.

The woman gave him a knowing look and stepped aside. "Come inside," she gestured for him to enter. As he did, she looked around him at Snart and Sara. "You can take the girl upstairs to the guest room. Follow me." They did as instructed and followed the room through an open living room and up a semi-steep staircase to the second level. "Whatever medical supplies you could ever need is in the bathroom cupboard," the woman informed, holding opening the guest room door.

The room was medium sized—not too large, but definitely not small—with a dressed directly left of the door and a full sized bed against the right wall, a few feet from the door. The woman pointed across the room at an open door that obviously led to a bathroom. "It's just in there," she finished. "Don't worry about replacing what you take."

"Thank you," Sara said, a bit taken aback by the willingness to help them. The woman nodded, like it was nothing, and started back for the stairs. An empty silence filled the room, along with an old and unused smell to the entirety of the bedroom. Snart was careful in laying Bobbi down on the right side of the bed, making sure not to undo any of Sara's hard work. Sara was able to pin the blood bag to the bed post on Bobbi's side of the bed.

It wasn't a permanent fix but it would hold for as long as they needed in this situation. As Sara turned away from the bed post, only then did she notice the sheer empty and slightly depressed look on Snart's face. It caused her to pause for a moment. No one on the team had ever dreamed of seeing him like this. "Hey, she's gonna make it through this," Sara said, firmly. He didn't respond. He only sighed heavily and scrubbed his hands over his face, settling on an expression that was just plain hopelessness.

Sara genuinely felt sympathetic. A lump was forming in her throat but she grabbed his arm, getting his attention, making him look at her. "Do you love her?"

"Yes," he didn't hesitate.

"Then don't you _dare_ give up on her," she said, surely. "She needs you right now, more than any medicine we could ever give her. She's still in there...so don't let go."

* * *

 **What did you think? Tell me in a review!**


	2. Episode 2: Where's My Love

**A/N:** Heyo! So I'm gonna bring in characters from my Arrow trilogy in the subsequent chapters. If you get confused as to who someone is, they're probably an oc from that story! You can read about them more in my story, "Sad. Beautiful. Tragic." and it's sequel, "The Lucky One"!

 _ **EPISODE PLAYLIST:  
** 01\. I WAS HERE_ \- Beyonce  
 _02\. ANGEL_ \- Theory Of A Dead Man  
 _03\. REQUIEM FOR BLUE JEANS_ \- Bastille

* * *

 _ **NARRATOR'S POV**_

Sara sighed, sitting back. Changing bandages wasn't exactly on her resume but she was doing the best she could, desperate for a way to keep busy. The wounds weren't even healing. Bandage changes were only becoming more frequent as the days passed.

She'd been one of Bobbi's primary caretakers for past eight days. The other fluctuated between Snart and Kendra, with the frequent visits from rest of the team fluttered around and popped in every now and then. But none of them stayed very waking minute of the day—unlike Snart. It was a task just to get him to eat.

Thankfully, he was currently sleeping in a chair on the opposite of the bed. Sara had to force that as well. Bobbi was on a makeshift life support system, thanks to some engineering from Gideon. Electrodes on her chest gave timely electric shocks to her chest cavity to trigger her heart's natural muscle contraction, forcing the heart to continue to supply blood to the rest of her body. Otherwise there would be no Bobbi left to pine over.

Sara stood and pulled the blankest back up to Bobbi's collar bone over the electrode's cords, leading to the small box beside her body. Still no response of any kind, no proof that Bobbi was even still inside the husk that her body was becoming. She kept a pulse regardless—thanks to the machine—but her skin still had yet to pinken. It was a dull crème color. Sara tried not to think about the possibilities, turning away from the bed.

As she did, her elbow caught a glass pitcher on the nightstand. It tipped, teetered, and then bounded right off. "Oh, shit-" Sara, flustered, quickly moved to catch it. But she froze in place with wide eyes. The pitcher didn't hit the ground. There was no huge crash to alert everyone in the house. It was silent. The pitcher bobbed lightly in the air beside the nightstand—not quite touching the floor, not quite on top of the nightstand.

Sara didn't know what to do. For a moment, she just stared—unable to do anything else. She glanced at Bobbi. Nothing. No outward reaction of any kind. Just dull skin and a plain expression. Sara then nabbed the pitcher and quickly set it back atop the nightstand, then dashed for the door.

"I'm afraid I've lost her," Rip admitted, exhaling. He adjusted his hands, clasped behind his back, and glanced at his mother walking beside him. "We don't have time to wait for her, but I can't bring myself to leave without her. And there's absolutely _nothing_ I can do for her." The woman hummed as they rounded a shrub, headed back for the house.

The garden was a perfect place for hard discussion away from the team. That way Rip could get advice without having to deal with the input from everyone else. "Well, _I'm_ afraid it's not that simple. It's not a decision of staying or leaving, it's a decision between family and what you think you need to do," the woman corrected.

"If I stay, I run the risk of letting Savage win and losing my wife and son," Rip thought aloud. "If I leave, there's no promise I'll make it back...and I'll lose my daughter."

His mother stopped, turning to him. "You don't have to make this decision alone."

"What are you talking about?" His brow furrowed.

She sighed. "Talk to her. She may be unconscious but she's still inside her own body. If you listen, she'll tell you." Rip held his tongue. He'd been at the end of his rope for a while now, but what his mother was insinuating sounded quite crazy to him. He opened his mouth, but whatever he was going to say was cut off. Suddenly Sara burst from the house.

She ran across the yard and skidded to stop at Rip. "You will never believe what she happened," she panted. "Bobbi used her powers."

"What? How?" Rip nearly gaped.

Sara threw her arms up in a gesture. "I have no idea! She didn't even _move_ , it just happened."

"Show me." Sara nodded and led the way back to the house in a hurry. They blew through the living room and up the stairs to the second floor, earning concerned and somewhat questioning looks from those of team _in_ the living room. "What was that about?" Ray asked, to no one in particular, sitting in a chair by the stairs.

"Probably another false alarm," Mick grumbled, toying with his heat gun in another chair across the living room. This had been hard on him in particular. Never in his life had he ever met someone as supportive of him—or more willing to befriend him—as Bobbi. She was truly unique in that respect. And it was gone.

He'd lost his number one supporter on the team. Ray settled back into his chair just as Kendra came from the next room looked up the stairs, and then turned to the boys. "Did someone just run up the stairs?" she asked, curious.

"Yeah, Sara and Rip went up there in a hurry," Ray nodded.

Her eyes went wide. "What? Why didn't you say anything?"

Kendra didn't wait for a response. She turned and took the stairs two at a time to the second level. She hurried to Bobbi's room, stepping in. Sara was explaining something to Rip as she did. Snart was only half-heartedly listening across the room in a chair, looking like the very human embodiment of Grumpy Cat. Rip was listening but he didn't seem entirely receptive. "And how exactly do you think she did that?" he asked Sara.

Sara sighed heavily, partially glaring at him. "I know what I saw, Rip. Obviously neither of _us_ could've done it," she gestured a hand toward Snart, then back at herself. "The only person in the world that I know who moves things with their mind, is _Bobbi_."

"What do you think this proves, Sara?" Snart asked, rhetorically.

"What happened?" Kendra asked, completely lost in the conversation. Sara scrubbed her face with her hands in a grumble and Rip turned to see both women. "Sara believes Bobbi moved the pitcher on the nightstand," he explained, calmly. "What it means is currently up for debate."

"It means she's _still in there_ ," Sara pressed, getting annoyed. "Some part of her is alive- maybe that means we can salvage the rest of her?"

Snart begrudgingly pulled himself up to stand. "What exactly do you think you can do?"

"Well, this kind of thing happened to my best friend. So I know someone that knows a lot about bringing people back to life," Sara said, crossing her arms. She turned to Rip. "If we just take the ship and swing by Gotham City, I can get what we need to help her. She's not even actually dead, so we're already halfway there." Rip thought for a moment.

If they went to Gotham City, even just for a little while. Savage and the Time Masters would both know exactly where they were. They would be a target. Though, he was confident Sara could deal with more pesky bounty hunters and assassins. He inhaled through his nose and nodded once. "Alright. Take Mr. Rory with you, in case something happens," he agreed. Sara wasn't entirely keen on taking Mick with her, but she was happy to go at all.

She nodded and hurried out of the room. She trotted down the steps. In the living room, Mick was still messing with his gun, unscrewing something. Ray was watching curiously, wondering what the hell the man was actually doing—or if he even knew. Sara smirked as she entered the living room. "Mick," she said.

"Here we go," Mick sighed, looking up.

"We're going to Gotham City. There's someone there that can help Bobbi," Sara explained. "Up for a mission?"

He stood. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting to hear that."

It only took a second to jump to two-thousand eighteen Gotham City. More specifically, as close to Wayne Manor as happened to be in the large front driveway of the estate. "Why are we at Wayne Manor?" Mick asked, as Sara led the way to the Cargo Bay door. She pressed the button beside the door, causing it to open, and then turned to Mick. "I said I knew someone that was in Gotham City, I didn't say where in Gotham City," she smirked a bit before hurrying off the ship.

Mick sighed, grumbling, and followed shortly behind. He would never admit this, but being in or anywhere near fancy place or people made him uncomfortable. Mostly because he knew they were all looking down at him like he was somehow less than them just because they had money and he didn' was one of the biggest reasons why he stole from rich people. They didn't deserve what they had. So he took it. It was really simple logic when you broke it down.

Sara took in a breath and then rapped her knuckles on the large double doors. The stairs took a long time to climb just in themselves. It only took a moment for the door to creek it's way open, revealing a dark haired boy. He looked anywhere around the age of fifteen. "Can I help you?" he asked, suspiciously, glancing between Sara and Mick. Sara's eyebrows rose upon hearing his voice.

He was short—maybe a few inches less than Sara—and young, but his voice was _deep_. Almost too deep to seem natural."We're looking for Dick Grayson," Sara shook herself from her thoughts. "Know where I might find him?"

"He hasn't lived here for a couple years," the kid shook his head. Sara's shoulders dropped. Then she paused, eyeing the kid. He raised his eyebrows at her but she kept staring. "What's your name?" she asked, curiously. He briefly glanced at Mick before turning back to Sara. He answered, "Tim Drake."

" _Tim? Who's at the door?_ "

Another deep male voice came from not too far away in the building and Sara inhaled. "Well, we better be going," she quickly turned to Mick. "Let's leave. _Now_."But it was too late. The door pulled open all the way and Sara inwardly cringed, turning back to face it. "Sara? Sara _Lance_?" A dark haired man that Sara recognized as Bruce Wayne stood beside Tim now, eyeing her. "You're supposed to be _dead_. Why are you at my front door?"

Sara chuckled once. "It's a funny story actually. I need to talk to Dick. Maybe he's with Anna?"

"No," Bruce immediately waved the thought away, his expression steeling. His jaw visibly clenched. "No one has seen or heard from Anna in three years." Sara's eyes went wide, her mouth nearly falling open. She knew she might have missed a lot of shit that went down after she 'died' but this was just crazy. Anna, missing? She never thought that could ever be possible. "Okay...well, do you know where _Dick_ is?" she asked.

"Probably somewhere I can't find him," Bruce said, somewhat sadly.

"Why do you need Dick so bad?" Tim asked, curious.

"Our friend is kind of in a weird situation-"

"She's dead," Mick interrupted, getting to the point. "Well, almost."

Sara sighed. "Dick knows how to find someone that can help us, but we can't find her without him."

"Actually, you can," Bruce corrected. "I know where she is. But...she might not be so willing to help you. Come inside."


	3. Episode 3: Beware The Bat

_**EPISODE PLAYLIST:  
** 01\. MYSTERY AND STUFF_ \- John O'Hollaron  
 _02\. MY LITTLE GIRL_ \- Tim McGraw

* * *

 _ **NARRATOR'S POV**_

Bruce led the way through the manor to a small sitting room on the west side. Mick was completely clueless but Sara knew exactly where they were going. She'd never been into the Bat Cave through the manor access, only through the outside entry around the back of the estate, but Anna talked about it enough when they'd first met that she had it burned into her brain already. "What are we doing in a living room?" Mick asked, aiming it at Sara just in front of him.

She twisted to see him a second. "It's not a living room."

"I'm guessing Anna already told you about this," Bruce pulled a book out forward on the fireplace mantel until it clicked, then stepped back. "If not, now you know." The whole fireplace wall started turning, rumbling and shaking the room a bit as it did. It turned almost completely sideways before stopping. "Don't worry, she spoke _very_ fondly of you," Sara smirked. Bruce looked put down by the comment, but knowing as to why.

He sighed. "This way."

He started into the darkness that the turned fireplace revealed, and Tim followed quickly behind. Sara didn't hesitate to follow. Though secretly he was a bit creeped out, Mick hesitantly followed behind Sara into the dark staircase. Several stairs in, torches lit up the stair case, hanging from the walls on either side. It seemed to just go on and on without any hope of stopping. There was no light at the end of the tunnel for quite a while in the spiraling descend.

Finally, they made it to where the stairs met cave flooring. It opened to an extremely wide, open area with a very high cave ceiling. It looked a lot different than the last time Sara was there. The overall appearance of the place was old, worn, dusty, and unused. Only a few feet in, and Sara noticed the large computer column to the far left. "Alfred," Bruce called. "We have guests."

Just then, an elderly looking man in a relaxed suit and tie started out from behind a display of costumes to their right. "Why, Miss Lance, it's a pleasure to see you again," Alfred greeted, smiling as he approached the group. "Though, I don't remember you being alive last I heard of you."

Sara gave a closed-mouth smile. "Yeah, there's a lot of that going around. I would explain but-"

"Please, don't let me slow you down," Alfred squared his shoulders in a professional gesture. "I'll make myself useful elsewhere."

"It's good seeing you again, Alfred," Sara nodded.

Alfred made a bowing gesture, tipping forward. "Likewise, Miss Lance." He made a small nod toward Mick before started past them both, headed for the stairs. Bruce was already busy typing away at the computer column, with Tim close by watching. "You're shitting me," Mick commented, in realization, eyeing the many varying costumes hanging in cases. " _This_ guy is Batman?"

"Yeah, my best friend—the one that died, Anna—is his daughter," Sara explained, turning to him a bit. "We really should be talking to her. Or Dick."

Bruce turned around, sitting in his chair. "You're looking for Renee Mordecai. She's famous on the underground circuits for talking to spirits and—some say—resurrecting the dead." Sara raised her eyebrows in surprise, and walked over to the computer screens. A picture of the woman remained on one of them. She was thin with almond eyes and pale skin, wearing a heavy grey cloak that covered most of her face. But she looked young. Almost too young.

Sara crossed her arms as Mick came over to stand beside her. She turned to see Bruce. "How do we know she can actually resurrect people?" she questioned, curious.

"Because I hired her once," Bruce turned back the computers. "Trust me, if your friend is dead—or almost there—you want to talk to _her_."

"Hired? So she does this for money?" Mick asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Of sorts. Anything you have she finds worth something will do. Money isn't a currency in her circles," Bruce explained, turning back to them. Mick looked to Sara. Ultimately, this was all Sara's idea. So any important decisions were up to her. She thought about it a second. Then she turned to face Bruce completely, letting her arms fall to her sides. "Where is she?" she asked, her mind made up.

The point of the mission was to help Bobbi. And if this woman could do that, than it was worth the trip. They would never find out unless they tried. "Here, in Gotham City," Bruce stood. "But she doesn't come above ground often. You'll have to come to her." He turned to the computer and typed on the keyboard. A paper printed out from a panel of the desk, and Bruce pulled it off. "Follow this map, and you'll find her."

He held out the paper to Sara and she took it, looking it over. She hummed. "Okay. Thank you," she looked back up to Bruce, folding the paper away into her pocket. "If you find Anna-"

"You'll be the first to know," Bruce nodded, knowingly. Sara nodded in return, silent thanks, and then turned to leave. Mick was still a bit in shock from the Batman revelation but he was quick to follow her to the exit. The whole place gave off an eerie vibe that wasn't necessarily pleasant to be around.

* * *

Rip sat in a chair at Bobbi's bedside, deep in thought. The life support machine barely made any noise at all. It was just a light, airy hum. It would go completely unnoticed if you didn't already know it was there. Rip's hand loosely held Bobbi's, his thumb brushing over her knuckles in an unknown pattern. He felt hollowed out inside. Completely torn with no way to put himself back together. Bobbi had been keeping them at the house for far too long.

Savage would be making plans, moving forward with his plot to destroy life as everyone knew it. There was no time for sitting around. And yet he'd held himself still for nine days, staying by the daughter he barely knew, rather than going out and trying to regain the family he _did_ know. He wasn't even sure if Bobbi cared that they were family. But he cared. He cared too much. She was the baby girl he'd left behind all those years ago. The one he'd wondered about through all his days as a Time Master.

He'd wondered what happened to her every day. How she was doing, if she was being fed—if she was being loved as much as he would love her. Somehow fate had it that they would reunite in the strangest way. And after all that it took for the universe to bring them back together, here they were, father apart than they'd ever been. He kept asking himself the same question. _Why would all of this happen to bring them together just for them to be torn apart again?_

What was the purpose of it? Why not just bring someone else to the team to help? He sighed heavily, his eyes shifting up to her face. The only thing keeping her alive right now was a machine. What kind of life is that? It isn't even a life. Though, he couldn't just let her go. Nothing could make him ever be able or willing to do it. But was it what was best for Bobbi? Or was there still a chance? Maybe there was, maybe there wasn't. But all of it just left a sadness in him.

He'd hoped they could have a better life than this. It was what they all signed up for. Unfortunately, they hadn't collected any DNA from Bobbi when she joined, so any blood or tissue they used for her was Rip's. No one really made it a point to ask why. Rip assumed they just thought he and Bobbi were the same blood type. "I don't know if you're still in there…or if you can hear me at all," he inhaled, trying to make himself speak. "I don't want to have to say this…but I don't think I can save you."

He looked for any kind of reaction out of instinct, but o the inside he knew there wouldn't be one. And there wasn't. "I just wanted to say this, in case that's true," he continued. "I know you don't know me as anything other than the man that left you behind. But you _must_ know…I care about you so much. I wouldn't still be here if I didn't. I promise you, I will never leave you again. Please…just come back to us. Snart is beside himself and, honestly, I don't know how much more of Kendra's overbearing tactics I can handle.

We all miss you, Barbara. And we're all here for you. None of us have given up hope yet. Well, maybe Mick, but- ah, that's not the point. The point is we need you here with us. We need you to come back and be here. If you can hear me at all…please, don't leave us. Don't leave me. I can't lose you—not again. You _fight_. You fight, and you stay with us. I won't give up on you. Just don't give up on yourself."


	4. Episode 4: The Magician

_**EPISODE PLAYLIST:  
** 01\. GARDEN_ \- Halsey  
 _02\. WILD HEART_ \- Daughtry  
 _03\. MAGIC_ \- B.O.B. Ft. Rivers Cuomo

* * *

 _ **NARRATOR'S POV**_

After a few hours of walking, Sara and Mick finally found Renee Mordecai's location. A dark, gothic style building that appeared to be something of a mixture between a bar and a mystic club. Beads strung up in the doorway was all that served as a door—or lack thereof. And the whole bar-like lounge was clouded with some kind of colorful haze. "This looks like a place you'd go to smoke weed," Sara commented, coughing a little at the end.

Mick eyed the room. "It probably is."

"Well then, let's find our girl and get the frack out of here," Sara started for the bar. "Hopefully she's not stoned." Mick grunted in response, following. A lone woman stood behind the bar counter, straight to the left of the door. It was obvious that she wasn't the right one. She was not at all the thin, lanky girl in the photo. Sara leaned into the bar counter and Mick stood close behind. He was mostly keeping an eye on the rest of the joint.

It didn't look too safe in there. Everyone was goth-looking in dark clothing with multiple tattoos. Not exactly the best company. But the perfect place for a sorceress to hide. "Excuse me? We're looking for someone," Sara said, trying to get the bartender's attention.

The woman snorted. "Aren't we all?"

"Her name is Renee Mordecai," Sara continued. "Maybe my height, dark hair-"

"Stop right there, honey. Everyone here knows exactly who you're talking about," the woman interrupted, tiredly. She sat down a glass she was drying and walked over where Sara was standing. "She doesn't meet just anybody. I'll tell her you're here—but don't expect her to agree to seein' you."

The woman started to walk away, through an open doorway behind the bar, but Sara was quick to stop her. "Hey, wait- can you tell her this is kind of important?" The woman paused with a sigh, turning back to Sara and Mick. She thought a second. Then her eyes narrowed. "Who sent you?" she asked, curiously.

"Bruce Wayne," Mick answered.

The woman nodded once, knowing. "Wait here."

She disappeared through the doorway and Sara's shoulders dropped. It wasn't necessarily the waiting. It was just how long they would wait. They didn't have a whole lot of time to be standing around in a bar, waiting for some mystical magician to agree they were worthy enough to see her. And even then she could still refuse to help them. Bobbi didn't have that long. So whatever they did, it had to be fast.

Though, it didn't take long for the bar tender to come back from her disappearance. Sara immediately stood up straight, eager to hear what the woman might say. "She's agreed to see you," the woman announced. "You get five minutes to convince her how important it is."

Five minutes wasn't much. But Sara hurried around the end of the bar to the opening. Mick opted to stay out in the bar area, so Sara went in alone. The woman led the way into the back room and around to the right, into a darkened room. It looked to be a library. Books stuffed shelves along all four walls of the medium sized room. And they all looked incredibly old. Standing near the back of the room, in the far right corner reading a book, was a tall woman in a cloak.

It was a heavy grey cloak. The coloring looked more like charcoal smears in person. The bar tender didn't say anything, just stepped back out to the bar, leaving Sara standing in the doorway to the library. The woman in the cloak turned around. Her features were thin, sculpted, with her hair braided on her shoulder.

She closed her book and slid it back on the shelf beside her. "So, Bruce Wayne sent you to me," she said, not quite a question, but not a statement either.

Sara nodded. "Yeah. He said you brought people back from the dead."

"Did he?" Renee raised her eyebrow a second, before pushing her cloak back to hang on her shoulders, revealing a green gem on her forehead. "You've come a long way. Who is so important to you that you must seek _my_ help from a Billionaire?" Her voice was youthful, but still worn and aged. It was odd. But Sara filed it away to be curious about later.

Renee moved left, to an old oak table and chairs set, and sat in a chair that allowed her to still see Sara. She gestured a hand out at the chair across from her with calm features. Sara made her way over in no time and quickly sat. "It's my friend. Her name is Bobbi. There's a group of us…we were basically hired to help save the world," Sara tried to explained.

"This… _Bobbi_ …does she have a last name?" Renee inquired, mildly curious sounding. She waved a hand at the table to her adjacent right and suddenly an antique silver tea pot and cups sat there. She picked up the tea pot and began pouring steaming liquid into the cups.

Sara nodded once. "James."

Renee paused, mid pour. Suddenly her demeanor was completely serious as she sat down the tea pot. "What happened to her? Why does she need my magic?" she questioned, sliding Sara a cup. She sounded a mixture of curious and angered. Sara sat up a bit, taking the cup to be polite. You don't want to piss off the person who could help you. Sara started, "A man named Vandal Savage-"

"I know of him," Renee nodded once, slowly.

Sara inhaled, slightly annoyed. "He tried to kill her. He took a good chunk out of her side, we got there a little too late, and now she can't survive without a machine to make her heart beat. Her wounds aren't even healing. Look, I don't believe in magic. But if that's what it's going to take to save my friend…then so be it. Can you help us?"

Renee was quiet a moment, taking a sip of tea. She sat the cup back down on the table and looked up at Sara. "I will help your friend."

"For what price?" Sara asked, sitting back. "Bruce said you trade things you want for your help."

"No price. My reward for this work will be meeting this friend of yours. I will help you, and then we will not speak again."

* * *

Ray sighed, looking out the front window of Rip's mother's house. "They've been gone a while. What do you think is keeping them?"

"Your incessant whining," Snart said, just coming off the stairs. Ray twisted to mildly glare as Snart turned right, heading into the kitchen area, just as Kendra was coming out. She held two steaming mugs. She walked over to Ray at the window and held one out to him. He took it with a small smile of thanks. "I'm sure they'll be back soon," Kendra reassured, before sipping her mug. "Sara knows we're pressed for time."

"What if something happened and they're stuck in Gotham City?" Ray hypothesized, looking away slightly. His gears were obviously turning—his brilliant mind going thousands of miles an hour trying to think up some kind of reason for why they weren't back yet. "Ray, they're fine, okay? Don't worry," Kendra tilted her head to the side, sympathetically.

"If they come back in one piece, I'll be upstairs," Snart called, passing through the living room before starting up the staircase. Kendra and Ray both twisted to see when he spoke, watching as he disappeared a second later. "Will he ever stop hibernating up there?" Ray wondered aloud.

"I'm just surprised he left that room for as long as he did," Kendra shrugged.

Ray shook his head, thinking. "Were they screwing the whole time and I missed it or-?"

"Don't ask me. I wasn't let in on the secret." Kendra's shoulders dropped, sounding a little mopeier then she'd wanted. But she was still slightly upset about it. Bobbi didn't trust Kendra with the news about her secret relationship with the resident criminal. And yet Sara had known the entire time. Kendra knew Bobbi might have feelings for Snart—given her drunken rambling—but she never knew Bobbi actually _acted_ on it.

Let alone the fact that they were now an actual couple. Or that Snart cared about her enough to act like _this_. He was moody, sleep-deprived, and downright grumpy. "Maybe she had good reasons?" Ray suggested, light heartedly. "She seemed like a very private person to begin with."

"She _seems_. She's not dead yet," Kendra corrected.

Ray raised an eyebrow. "Are you alright? You seem a little off."

Kendra sighed heavily, scrubbing her face with her free hand. She groaned a bit. "I don't know…" she dropped her hand, looking out the window past Ray. "I know she's not dead. But…seeing her like that, for so long, I just can't help think…maybe she's not _going_ to wake up? Maybe she really is dead and we're just prolonging her suffering?"

"Kendra…she's going to be okay. Bobbi's a fighter—she's strong. She can get through this," Ray tried to encourage. Kendra nodded a bit, trying to make herself believe. But secretly she'd been feeling a little hopeless for a while now. Sending Sara and Mick out was their last option. They were at the end of their rope. There was nothing else really that they could do. Just then, the jump ship materialized in the front yard. Kendra's eyes widened.

"They're back!" she shouted, directing it toward the rest of the house. Sara exited the ship first, followed by Renee, and then Mick. Sara led the way to the front door as Kendra quickly opened it to meet them. "Sorry we took so long," Sara apologized, stopping a foot from Kendra. "But, we got what we needed." Kendra then looked to the woman in a cloak standing beside Sara.

Renee eyed Kendra a moment. "Priestess Chey-Ara," she greeted.

Kendra looked puzzled. "How do you know that?"

"It has always been easy to spot someone not in their time. More specifically, those who are _immortal_ ," Renee explained, calmly. "Or cursed—which seems more your case."

"Okay, enough with the third eye crap. You're here for a reason—and she's upstairs," Sara intervened, putting a hand on Renee's shoulder pointedly. Renee started into the house and Sara followed close behind, but not before giving a stressed out look to Kendra. Kendra sighed and followed after them up the stairs to the second level of the house.


	5. Episode 5: Hocus Pocus

**A/N:** Sorry for not updating sooner! I got really busy. I'm still writing this, I just haven't had time to actually post, so don't worry!

 _ **EPISODE PLAYLIST:  
** 01\. WAKE ME UP INSIDE_ \- Evanescence

* * *

 _ **NARRATOR'S POV**_

No one really knew what to expect. None of them had ever done anything like this before. Renee sat down in the chair at Bobbi's bedside while the others all stood back a ways. Rip was front and center, though, standing right beside the chair to keep an eye on everything that happened. Mostly to make sure this wasn't a setup and this woman they'd brought in was actually real. "How long has she been dead?" Renee asked, holding Bobbi's limp hand in hers palm up.

She was eyeing it with calm features, obviously thinking. "She isn't actually dead _yet_ ," Snart rolled his eyes, his arms folded over his chest, leaning back into a dresser not too far to the left. Rip sighed and gave Snart a look, but Snart only glared back defiantly. "Let me rephrase then," Renee inhaled. "How long has she been on the machine?"

"Almost ten days," Rip answered, shortly.

Renee hummed a moment, and then dropped Bobbi's hand. She reached up and plucked the electrodes away. "The longer someone has been reliant on a machine to live, the harder it is to bring them back," she started, sitting back in her chair again. "I can't promise this will work…but I will try. The process takes time. And I must not be interrupted or her consciousness will be lost."

Rip turned slightly to see the rest of the team and motioned for the door. Basically telling them that those not necessary should leave now as to not cause any problems once Renee starts. Jackson, Professor Stein, Ray, and Mick all promptly left the room. "What exactly are you going to do?" Rip inquired, turning back to Renee.

"She isn't healing because her consciousness is broken. If you want her back, I must project my own inside to repair it," Renee answered, simply.

Rip opened his mouth, but shut it. Snart glanced around, and then sighed, pushing off the dresser. "Alright, _I'll_ ask the hard questions," he said, stepping up beside Rip to see Renee. "What happens if your magic voodoo doesn't work?" Everyone silently stood up a bit at that question. Saying the words in your head and saying them out loud were two very different things. "Then she is lost," Renee replied.

"Well, then, let's get started, shall we?" Rip suggested, subtly trying to change the subject. Renee nodded as she drew in a breath, turning in her chair to face Bobbi. The process was never easy for her. Going into someone's mind and trying to reason with their—sometimes—dead subconscious took a lot out of a person mentally and physically. But she leaned in and placed a hand on either side of Bobbi's face as she closed her eyes to focus.

* * *

 _ **BOBBI'S POV**_

My fingers gripped the outer rubber of the ball and I immediately tossed it back. "Good catch, Barbara," dad smiled, preparing to throw again. The grass felt cool on my feet, but the sun heated up the rest of my body through a clear blue sky. There was a light breeze but nothing major. The whole atmosphere of the park was so relaxing. Dad tossed the ball, sending it hurtling my way.

I easily sidestepped to catch it, teetering a little, and then quickly tossed it back to him. He was only a few feet from me but it felt like miles. "So, how is school going?" he asked, tossing the ball. School. Did he have to bring it up? This was supposed to be our fun time, just me and him. And he had to bring the rest of the world into it. I sighed, tossing the ball back. "Fine, I guess," I replied.

He raised an eyebrow. "Fine? It's that bad, huh?"

"No…" I dropped my shoulders. "It's just…I don't fit in there. No one wants to talk to me."

"Have you tried talking to them first?" he asked, tossing the ball again. No. To be honest, the thought kind of scared me. Why would I? They already acted like they didn't like me, so why bother the further embarrassment and hurt of trying to talk to them? I shook my head and tossed the ball. He caught it and stood upright, stopping the game. "Barbara, you've gotta try," he said. "You can't just assume they don't want to talk to you. Maybe they're shy, too?"

" _Dad_ ," I whined.

He walked over to me and knelt down, taking my hands in his. The ball rolled away but he didn't seem to care. He was only looking at me. "Sweetheart…I know it can be hard. I had problems finding friends when I was your age," he said, looking sympathetic.

My eyebrows shot up. "You did?"

"Yes, I did. But you know what fixed it?" I shook my head, and he continued, smiling. "I met your mother. She was the sweetest girl in school. She noticed I was by myself most of the school year so, on the last day, she came to me and introduced herself."

"So, you're saying I have to talk to them unless I want to die alone?" I asked, rhetorically. He barked a deep, throaty laugh with bright eyes and placed a hand on either of my cheeks. "I'm saying that one moment of courage, san lead to a lifelong friendship. Something that could change your life forever—for the better," he explained, lightly. "And you don't have to worry about being rejected. What is it I always say?"

I inhaled. "When someone hurts you: cry a river, build a bridge, and get over it."

"Exactly. You've just gotta put yourself out there. It's scary, but you're a James, Barbara. We're not afraid of anything, are we?" he asked, knowingly.

"No," I shook my head.

… _Bobbi…Barbara…listen…_

I twisted to see behind me. No one was there. "What's wrong, honey?" dad asked, raising an eyebrow at the odd behavior. It was so weird. I thought I heard someone somewhere say my name. I looked around at the rest of the park. Nothing. I shook my head, turning back to him. "Nothing, I just thought I heard something," I waved it away.

 _BARBARA!_

My ears were shot with a sudden and incredibly loud hum. Like when you hold microphones too close to something else electronic. My hands flew to my ears and I squeezed my eyes shut. A wave of pain rolled down my spine and pooled at my lower back. My head began to pound. I cracked open my eyelids and froze. The park was empty. Dad was gone. I gasped and spun, looking for someone—anyone. But there was no one. My heart was racing.

Just then, I could make out a figure at the play structure. "Dad? Daddy!" I called out for him, starting toward the play structure not more than a few yards away. Halfway there, I saw it wasn't him. It was a woman. She was tall, thin, and wore some kind of cloak. I skidded to a stop and took a step back. She was walking toward me now. "Don't be afraid, Barbara," her voice sounded just like what I thought I'd heard before. "I'm here to help you."

"Where's my dad?" I asked, squaring my shoulders.

She stood a foot from me and got down on a knee to be level with me. She slowly reached up and pushed back her hood. Dark, almost black hair flopped out in a braid. The diamond on her forehead was glimmering brightly. I almost couldn't look at it. "My name is Renee. I'm not going to hurt you. I was sent to find you, by people that care about you very much," she explained, her voice calm and smooth.

Just her voice alone seemed to force my muscles to relax. "What people?" I raised an eyebrow curiously. "My dad?"

"I'm afraid not. They're waiting for us right now. Will you walk with me?" She held out her hand in between us and I glanced down at it. Why would I go for a walk with someone I've never seen before right after my dad and everyone in the park suddenly vanished? "It's your choice, Barbara. But you have to make it."

"Will you take me to my dad?"

A simple nod was her response. I can't tell you why, but I felt like I could trust her. At least just enough to walk. Anything else and I would've said no way José and bolted. My dad's a cop so _stranger danger_ was pretty much the first movie I ever watched. Carefully, I put my hand in hers and she stood. She slowly started walking in the opposite direction and I followed her. A cold rush of wind blew at my face, blasting my hair back.

Following it was a bright white light. It seemed to wash over everything as if it were water. It colored everything around us a solid ceramic white. The breeze stopped as quickly as it'd come. I looked up at Renee. She didn't seem fazed much by it. I stopped walking, pulling my hand from hers. "What's going on? Why does everything look so weird?" I demanded the answers.

She turned to face me. "I'm taking you home. I'm taking you to your father. Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Well…yeah…but, what just happened?" I questioned, confused.

"This isn't real, Barbara. You've been imprisoned by you own subconscious. And you do not choose to come back with me, if you do not wake up, you will be trapped in this colorless place forever," she explained, slowly, almost cautiously. Probably waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for me to run.

I gaped. "What? Why would I be stuck somewhere? Did I do something bad?"

"No," she shook her head. "You did nothing wrong. Something happened to you—you got hurt. Now you have to make your choice, Barbara. Will you stay or will you come with me and wake up?" It sounded so simple the way she said it. But I was more confused than ever. She must've seen my indecision, because she knelt in front of me to get on my level again. Her hands splayed out in front of her palm up. Suddenly a wisp of smoke flourished.

It materialized out of her palm and floated up a foot before stopping. It started spiraling in a wide circle—becoming wider and wider—until it formed a picture. I didn't recognize the man in the picture. More people came into view and I realized it was a video of something. I startled back a bit, but I couldn't take my eyes off the people. They seemed so familiar. There was a woman with golden hair and sad eyes. She stood next to another woman.

The second woman had darker, tanner skin and deeply brown hair. But she had the same saddened eyes. The man I originally saw had close cut hair and distinct features. Another man came into view closest to the screen. He had blondish-brown hair and a slim jaw line, with oval eyes and a thick curve to his brow. I recognized him. A name didn't come to me, but it felt like I knew him somehow. My chest started to feel warm.

Like I was standing in front of a heater. "Do you know these people?" Renee suddenly asked, yanking me from my train of thought. I shook my head, and then paused. I pointed to the brown haired man in front. "I know him," I said, a little unsure. "I don't know his name…but I've seen him before."

"Yes, you have. And he misses you very much. These people…they're waiting for you right now," she explained. "If you don't come with me, they will never see you again, and you will never see them. It will be painful and it won't be the most pleasant experience of your life, but you will not regret it."

Suddenly the view of the video panned left. So far left that it almost turned completely around. Now I was looking at a woman lying in a bed. Renee sat beside her, touching her head, eyes closed. The woman in the bed looked familiar, too. But, once again, I couldn't place a name. "Who is that?" I asked, curiously, glancing up at her.

"That's you, right now," Renee answered.

My eyes rounded. "That's… _me_? W-why do I look like that? What _happened_ to me?" Just then, the image became smoke again and it quickly dissipated. My shoulders dropped in disappointment. Renee stood and held out her hand. "You'll find out why as soon as you take my hand," she told me, in a serious tone. "Take my hand, and you choose to live. What will you decide, Barbara?"


	6. Episode 6: I Said Something

_**EPISODE PLAYLIST:  
** 01\. I CAN BARELY SAY_ \- The Fray  
 _02\. BLINDING_ \- Florence + The Machine  
 _03\. CLARITY [LIVE]_ \- Foxes

* * *

 _ **BOBBI'S POV**_

I didn't feel anything. There wasn't some overwhelming sense of physical awareness that thrusted me back to reality. It was just one second my mind was numb, and the next it wasn't. My eyelids were almost way too heavy to open but I felt like me again. My ears started working before I could see anything. Voice filtered in. They sounded like they were talking into a tin can. Nothing seemed to be working right. I could feel my arms and legs but they wouldn't move.

Nor would my head or my torso—or pretty much any other body part. It felt like superglue held down my eyelids. Then I heard a familiar voice. Leonard. Saying something snarky and sarcastic no doubt. It made me want to squirm, the inability to act. I pushed and I pushed—trying to force my eyes to open. And they did for a second. Then they faltered and closed again. It was a fight but I managed to get them open long enough to be blasted with light from a window.

I immediately squinted, sucking in a breath. Then all the pain hit me at once. A hot, burning in my side almost made my stone-like features cringe. Suddenly there was a small pop in my ears and then every sound seemed too loud. It was too dense, too raw. After a moment my eyes adjusted and I could finally look around. Where the hell was I? The first thing I saw was a white ceiling. Textured paint assured me I was in some kind of house and not a hospital. I hate hospitals. " _Oh my god_." A voice that sounded too loud startled me a bit, snapping my eyes left.

My vision was slightly off key and a bit blurred but I could make out Kendra, Sara, Rip, and Snart. My heart fluttered as my eyes stopped on Leonard. He was slouching in a plush chair in the corner, but shot upright a second after I'd looked at him. My eyes were quickly pulled back to Kendra. She burst into tears and rushed toward me, throwing herself on me, hugging me tightly. Moving my mouth seemed like a feat before.

But then a pain shot up my spine and I hissed, causing her to instantly move back. "Oh, I'm so sorry, are you okay?" she asked, extremely concerned. It only took a second of looking at me to start crying again. "We thought…I thought we lost you."

"And l-leave you here alone with these yahoos?" Every word was over pronounced. Every word was said incredibly slowly. It took so much effort just to get a sentence out, forcing my lips to move how I wanted them to. But it worked well enough. "Welcome back, Bobbi," Rip said, just before I felt something grab my hand. It was hard to tell what although it was easy to assume. It took some convincing, but I managed to curl my fingers in an attempt to return the gesture.

I inhaled through my nose and tried for a smile. It probably looked too weak to actually be a smile. It was more like a failed attempt at a frown. "Glad to be back," I replied, a bit brittle. "Where's everyone else?"

"Downstairs. Kendra, Sara—why don't we go tell them the good news?" Rip suggested, pointedly. I would've raised an eyebrow, but it wouldn't move even if I tried. Kendra sniffled and wiped at her eyes before quickly slipping out the door. Rip moved over to the door as Sara came over to me. "I'm glad you're not dead," she smiled.

"Same here," I tried to smile.

She gave my shoulder a squeeze before hurrying out into the hall, soon followed by Rip. The door clicked shut behind them and I suddenly got it. My supposed-to-be-dead mind wasn't as fast as I left it. A scooting sound caught my attention and I looked up. Snart pulled over a wooden chair beside the bed and eased himself into it. "Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" he commented, lightly. His voice was quiet, soft. Like he somehow knew my ears were sensitive.

I think finally got the smiling part down. It was still small, but it was a smile none of the less. "I feel like crap," I contradicted, lightheartedly. My throat was a bit too dry, making it almost hurt to talk. He suddenly got very quiet, his eyes casting downward. It almost made my eyebrows _actually_ lift up. "I thought I'd never see you again," he looked back up at me with saddened eyes. "Well, not alive, at least."

His words reminded me of something, the thought bursting into my mind. Shit. I said _I love you_ at the harbor when I thought I was dying. Maybe he really didn't hear it? The weight of those three words sank in like a bag of rocks on my chest. Secretly I was praying he couldn't see it on my face. To focus on the conversation, I moved my hand out an inch to reach for him.

As if to sense that I wouldn't make it all the way he took my hand, interlocking his fingers with mine, only a few inches off the blanket. "I didn't think I would see you again, either," I admitted, a pang of guilt blossoming in my stomach. "That's always the problem with me, isn't it? I don't think. I just _do_."

"That's what I admire about you." He slid his freed hand onto my cheek, brushing his thumb along my cheek bone, his expression softened. The truth was my entire body felt like it'd been literally squished in a wine press. But it didn't bother me when I looked at him. There was a brief moment of companionable silence. It was nagging at me now. I had to know. I had to ask. "Leonard?"

He raised a brow. "Yes?"

"I need to ask you something. At the harbor, when you came…I said something-"

"I love you," he interrupted. I stopped, my eyes rounding more than I thought possible. "You said _I love you_." He seemed slightly amused at my reaction. I didn't really know how to proceed with this. What do I say? Do I even say anything? Do I do something? I was a hopeless romantic when it came to watching movies like _The Notebook_. But in my personal life romance was something so foreign to me. The corners of his lips curved up.

"If it's any consolation, you _did_ say it when you were about to _die_." He was teasing about it, but it was almost like he _wanted_ that to be the reason I said it. Not because I actually meant it. But, the more I think about it, the more I'm tempted to say I did mean it. Didn't I? Isn't that why I said it to begin with? God, _I_ can't even understand myself. I swallowed, inhaling. "I meant it," I said, firmly. I paused a beat before adding, "I'm in love with you, Leonard Snart."

He just stared at me a moment. All teasing or humor drained from his face, leaving behind only a slightly stunned expression of seriousness. It was almost like he was in shock. I'd never seen him look quite like this. "I'm in love with _you_ , Barbara James," he said, finally. It was hushed, but not quite a whisper. I'd never heard my full name in his voice, but I might do anything to hear it again. If my heart wasn't beating faster it was now.

He leaned forward and placed a kiss on my forehead before resting his forehead against mine. I let my eyes close, instinctively relaxing from the touch. My skin felt like an arctic blizzard compared to his. How long was I dead? It must've been a long time. That suddenly got me thinking. What did the team do while I was out? Did they get into any trouble? What exactly did they do to wake me up?

A knock on the door disrupted that train of thought. With how I was feeling it wouldn't be hard to do. A second after the knock, I heard the door hinges shift and briefly creak. Leonard sighed and sat back in the chair. "Sorry to interrupt, but the others are getting anxious," I heard Rip's voice from the door. Leonard looked to me for a reply. I inhaled, "Send them in." Rip nodded once and pushed the door open all the way, holding it in place. As soon as he did it the team started in.

Ray, Kendra, and Sara were the first in. Professor Stein, Jefferson, and Mick all came filed in just after. They seemed like a bigger group when they all confronted you at once, and when you're having trouble seeing clearly—like I was. It was getting better but it was still really slow going. "Welcome back," Ray beamed. "How do you feel?" Snart stood, dropping my hand, and hefted his chair more toward the end of the bed. My hand instantly felt too cold.

I tried to ignore it and smile back at Ray. "Like I was hit by a truck—but only on my left side."

"Well, that's better than I expected," he commented, sounding optimistic. I felt a pang of guilt hit my chest. Part of me was surprised Ray was even standing here. I thought for sure going to save Lizzie would mean losing him. But I guess the team figured it out without me. Apologetically, I replied, "I'm sorry I didn't choose you, back on the ship. I honestly didn't-"

He instantly waved it away with a light smile. "Eh, don't worry about it. I understand. You'd do anything for your family—just like the rest of us. And you're the one that actually died for a while there, so I think _I_ owe _you_ for keeping Savage distracted."

"Oh, is that how we're tallying it?" I smiled, fighting a laugh. "Okay. I can probably make myself live with that."

"Bobbi, we have a bit of a surprise for you," Sara sidestepped around Kendra to stand beside the bed. I raised an eyebrow curiously and she nodded to Rip at the door, before turning back to me. "Don't worry, you'll like this one." Rip stepped out of the room a moment. Then a second later returned, followed by a dark skinned woman that was all too familiar. My eyes almost instantly welled up. "M-mom?" I asked, in disbelief.

She smiled, teary-eyed herself, "Oh, I'm so happy you're alright." She made her way to the bed and sat just beside me. I forced my arms to move up and she bent to hug me as I wrapped my arms around her shoulders as tightly as I could manage. "How are you here?" I asked, pulling back to see her face. Something in my side pulled, and I felt a twinge, but I swallowed it down. I was too wrapped up in the situation to stop and fix whatever I just messed up.

Mom brushed my hair behind my ear and only then did I notice it. The puffy look to her cheeks, the red tinge to her eyes—both signs that she knew about Lizzie. Either that or she was just really worried about me. But something was pulling me hard toward the first option. "Your friends came to my house and told me you'd been injured. They were kind enough to bring me here," she answered, lightly. She always had a slightly southern accent.

But she claimed she'd never been to the south when I asked about it years ago. I instantly looked over at Rip. He gave a closed-mouthed smile, only confirming that it was his idea. "We thought it best that you wake up to family," he said, his hands in his pockets.

Sara scoffed at him and looked at me. "This was all _his_ idea." Rip sighed heavily and gave her a mild glare. It only caused her to smirk back at him triumphantly. "Did they give you any trouble on the way here?" I asked, looking back at my mom. I was mostly joking. But I wasn't sure how well my sarcasm came across.

"Heavens, no," she shook her head with a hand on her chest, like the notion was totally and completely absurd. I smiled at her humorous expression. God, I missed her. "They were all _very_ well behaved—especially the young man in blue. And apparently he's your newest gentleman caller?" If there was a mirror nearby, I'd probably see just exactly how red my cheeks were. Without it I had no way of knowing but they definitely felt very warm.

Snart gave his finest smiling smirk, with his arms crossed at the doorway. "Guilty," he raised a hand. I scrubbed my hand over my face with a mixture of a whine and a groan in embarrassment. I could just picture the smirks on everyone's faces. "Mom, really?" I asked, looking up at her.

She looked like she honestly didn't understand why I was embarrassed. "Barbara, honey, there's nothing to be ashamed of. He's very handsome-"

"MOM, STOP," I quickly interrupted, but the statement had already done plenty of damage.

"Hold on, she was just getting to the good part," Snart protested, sarcastically, very pleased with himself.

I shoved a finger in his direction. "You be quiet," I turned to my mother with a pleading expression. "Please, talk about something else. _Please_." Thankfully for me she agreed to stop talking about it. _Unfortunately_ for me I would probably never hear the end of this.


End file.
